


Time Bomb

by effingbirds



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Jim is kind of a dick, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-11-23
Packaged: 2017-11-15 07:32:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/effingbirds/pseuds/effingbirds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whatever the boss wants, the boss gets. Unless, of course, Sebastian's morals decide to make a rare appearance. Then nobody wins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He didn't know who the man was, only that Jim had wanted his murder to be violent. He had looked vaguely familiar, but that didn't matter so much once Sebastian had smashed his face in with a crowbar.

Job complete, he made his way back to Jim's flat, where he'd been sleeping on the sofa for a few weeks because Jim had insisted he needed the extra security. Apparently whoever this man had been, he was a threat to Jim's safety, but Sebastian didn't mind playing bodyguard for a few weeks. The man's behaviour had been very odd in that time, and he'd been prone to fits of paranoia and excessive violence. Jim was often difficult enough to be around when he was acting normal, so this stressed out version certainly wasn't the easiest person to room with. Sebastian had never seen him so tightly wound, but he knew he was Jim's most trusted man, and he handled the situation as delicately as possible. Whatever the boss wanted, the boss got.

He was surprised when he returned to the flat to find Jim sprawled across the sofa wearing only his pants and looking rather bleary-eyed. The empty bottle of scotch on the floor next to him explained as much as Sebastian needed to know.

“You ok?” he asked, approaching the man, who looked like he was trying to get his eyes to focus.

“Swell,” was the reply, “How did it go?”

“Fine. Everything's taken care of.”

He leaned over Jim and observed him, receiving a groggy glare in return. It wasn't nearly as intimidating as he probably intended, and Sebastian laughed and patted him on the shoulder.

“I'll get you some water,” he said, walking off toward the kitchen.

It was slightly disconcerting to see his boss in such a state. Jim generally looked down upon excessive drinking, which was something the two men had in common. They'd shared a glass or two of Jim's ridiculously overpriced liquor from time to time, but they'd never gotten drunk together. For Sebastian it was simply a matter of control; he tended to get violent and out of hand when he was drunk. He assumed the control aspect was the reason Jim never drank much as well. It was dangerous to be a man in his position and not be able to take care of himself.

When he returned from the kitchen, Jim was struggling to push himself into a sitting position.

“Here,” he said, pushing him upright and forcing the glass of water into his hand.  
Jim grumbled something under his breath, but took the glass willingly, chugging down the water like a man who'd just emerged from a desert.

“I'll get you some more,” Sebastian said, reaching for the glass, but Jim chucked it over the back of the sofa, smirking as he heard it smash against the floor.

He pushed Sebastian back against the arm of the sofa, and crawled into his lap, straddling him with a mischievous look upon his face. Sebastian didn't have time to ask what he was doing before Jim pressed their lips together.

He was so shocked at first that he kissed back without thinking about it. He'd wanted Jim for so long, but never thought his boss would be interested in him. Jim had always seemed above sex, somehow. He moaned into the kiss as Jim's tongue entered his mouth, and he grabbed the smaller man by the hips, pressing his own up against him. It was when Jim's hand snuck down the front of his trousers that he came to his senses.

“Whoa, hold on there,” he said, breaking the kiss, “We can't do this.”

“Why not?” Jim asked, panting against Sebastian's neck and continuing his explorations.

He firmly grasped Sebastian's cock, and his train of thought completely derailed. Suddenly fucking his boss seemed like the greatest idea in the world. He writhed underneath him as Jim continued his ministrations, but it was when Jim brought their mouths together once more and Sebastian could taste the scotch on his breath that Sebastian came to his senses. He pushed Jim away, and extracted himself from their tangled mess of limbs.

“Ok, no, sir. This is a bad idea,” he said, pulling himself off the sofa.

“Why? I want you, I know you want me... what's the problem?”

“You're drunk.”

“Ok, and?”

“Well aside from the whole issue of consent, you're my boss. My very scary boss who has anyone who makes him angry brutally murdered. So say we fuck, and you wake up tomorrow morning and, 'Whoops, I didn't mean to do that,' and it's not much of a leap from that to a dead Sebastian.”

“I promise that will not happen,” Jim said, crawling across the sofa on his knees, and reaching toward Sebastian, “I've wanted you for a long time. ...And anyway, you're the best I have. Business would suffer without your expertise.”

“Oh, that's really nice, sir,” he said, allowing himself to be pulled back down onto the sofa.

Jim straddled him once more, and bent down to mouth at his neck, but Sebastian could tell the scotch would finish its job soon, and before long he'd have a passed-out man in his lap. Sure enough, after giving Sebastian the biggest hickey he'd ever received, Jim sat back and stared at him sleepily.

“Time for bed, I think,” Sebastian said.

“I knew you'd see it my way,” Jim said, yawning.

“Nope. You're going to go to sleep now. If you still want to fuck in the morning I will be at your disposal, but not like this.”

Jim looked like he wanted to argue, but was simply too tired to think of anything. Finally he nodded his approval.

“Would you carry me?” he asked.

Sebastian laughed, but got off the sofa and lifted Jim into his arms, carrying him bridal-style into the bedroom. He laid him carefully upon the bed, and wasn't too surprised when Jim caught his arm as he was trying to leave.

“Come on,” he mumbled, “Stay with me, at least.”

Sebastian complied, and didn't complain when Jim threw the covers over the two of them and curled up against his chest.

“What's going on with you tonight, anyway?” Sebastian asked, running his fingers across the back of Jim's head, “I've never seen you drunk, and you've never, ever been …..affectionate before.”

“Guess I'm just in a mood,” Jim said, placing a kiss against Sebastian's chest, “Is that so strange?”

“For you? Yes.”

“Well, my brother died tonight.”

“What?” Sebastian said, trying to sit up. He was impeded by Jim's tight grip around his torso, “What happened?”

“Oh. Um. Well, he always thought he was smarter than me, you see. So he came to London thinking he'd kill me and take over the business. So I had him killed, first.”

“You-Oh, Jesus Jim, the man I killed tonight...” Sebastian trailed off, feeling his heart seize in his chest with the realization of what he'd done.

“Don't get sentimental on me, Sebastian. I wouldn't have trusted anyone else to take care of it for me.”

Sebastian said nothing, as Jim drifted off against his chest.

X

He awoke the next morning to someone insistently prodding him in the ribs.

“Whaaaat?” he groaned, trying to force his eyes open. When he finally succeeded he was greeted with the sight of a very hungover, slightly confused-looking Jim.

“Why are you in my bed?”

“Ah, see, I told you this would happen. Not that you remember that, apparently.”

“Is that a hickey on your neck?”

“Yeah, Jim. I'll give you three guesses as to who gave it to me. I'll even give you a hint: I work for the guy.”

Jim sat back, looking slightly flustered. Sebastian had never seen him looking so uncomfortable, and he didn't mind the glare Jim shot at him when he laughed.

“We didn't fuck, did we?” Jim asked.

“Course not. I mean, you wanted to, but I refused, because I knew you wouldn't remember wanting it, and you'd probably have me killed if I took advantage of you last night.”

“Oh, don't be stupid, Sebastian. If I had you killed, who on Earth would I have to do all my dirty work?”

“You said that last night, but it didn't sound quite so insulting, then.”

“Yeah, well, if you wanted love and kisses, you're working for the wrong man,” Jim said, pulling himself off the bed, “Now, I'm going to have a bath, and I expect you to be gone when I'm done. Have I made myself clear?”

“Crystal,” Sebastian said, and watched Jim stalk off toward the bathroom.


	2. Chapter 2

Jim Moriarty didn't seem like the kind of person who would deign acknowledge the mere existence of Christmas, which was why Sebastian was so shocked to find him in his flat on Christmas Eve, decked out in the tackiest Christmas sweater he'd ever seen. There was a bottle of very expensive rum in his hand, half-drunk, and the bow upon it made it clear it was a gift, but whether it was something Jim had received or something Jim had bought with the intention of giving to Sebastian remained unclear.

“Why are you in my flat?” he asked, choosing to ignore the other bizarre circumstances surrounding his boss's appearance.

“I hate Christmas,” Jim slurred at him, “But really? I hate being alone on holidays even more.”

“Ok. But don't you have somewhere better to be? Like with some friends, or maybe your relatives?” he asked, even though he knew it was a long shot. As far as he knew, Jim had no friends, and he'd never once mentioned his family, other than the brother he'd had Sebastian kill. Sebastian had always assumed that the rest were either all dead (probably by Jim's hand), or were so horrible that Jim simply wanted nothing to do with them.

Jim barked out a laugh at Sebastian's question, though it was clear he wasn't actually amused by it. A scowl crossed his face, and he shook his head as he took another swig from the bottle. He pulled it away from his mouth, and licked his lips.

“This is your Christmas present,” he said, holding the bottle up.

Well, that answered that question at least.

“And you're drinking it,” Sebastian said, sitting upon the sofa next to his inebriated boss.

“Yeah, whoops. You took too long coming home. But I'll buy you something else, ok? Like a nice country to blow up or something.”

“Just what I've always wanted,” Sebastian deadpanned, accepting the bottle from Jim as he held it out for him.

“What's with the sweater?” he asked, after taking a few generous gulps from the bottle. He knew rum as good as that one was supposed to be savored, but as far as he was concerned, fuck it. Liquor was liquor to him, as long as it got the job done.

“Don't you just love it? I bought it just for you,” Jim said, pulling it away from his frame and looking down upon it, “Isn't it horrible? Look, there's little reindeer on it and everything.”

He looked up at Sebastian with a grin, and Sebastian honestly couldn't tell if he was being sincere, or just making fun of him.

“I think horrible about covers it,” he replied.

Jim hummed his approval, and snatched the bottle back, taking a few hearty swigs. Then he handed it back to Sebastian.  
“There is something else I wanted to give you for Christmas,” Jim said, looking at Sebastian through his eyelashes.

He could see that Jim's eyes were focused upon his mouth, so he hesitated the pull the bottle from his lips. It was only when Jim caught hold of the end of it and tugged that he stopped chugging from the bottle, and set it down on his coffee table. Jim didn't waste any time in closing the gap between them, firmly pressing his lips to Sebastian's. He felt Jim's tongue probing at his mouth, and quickly pushed him away.

“Ok, with all due respect, sir, no.”

“Come on, Sebastian,” he said, attempting to climb onto his lap, “It's Christmas. Let's fuck.”

He laughed into Jim's mouth as he kissed him again, and his momentary amusement was enough of a distraction for Jim to pull himself onto his lap. He wrapped his legs around Sebastian's waist, and ground down against him, eliciting a moan from both men. 

Sebastian grabbed Jim by the hips, and flipped him over onto his back, pressing him down into the sofa. Jim moaned appreciatively into his mouth, and ran his fingers lightly through Sebastian's hair before gripping it tightly, keeping his head firmly in place. When he finally let go, Sebastian ran his lips along his jaw, placing a trail of kisses there all the way down to his neck. Jim tilted his head to the side to give Sebastian better access. He ran his hands down Sebastian's back before sliding them under the waist of his trousers to cup his arse. That was when Sebastian came to his senses.

“Ok, time to stop now,” he said, reaching behind him to pull Jim's hands away.

He sat up, and Jim followed him, clumsily trying to draw their lips together once more.

“Sir,” he said pushing Jim back a little, “Do you not remember what happened last time? I'm not going to do this while you're drunk.”

“I'm not that drunk,” Jim said, reaching out to push Sebastian's shirt open a little. 

He dipped his hand inside the collar and ran his fingers across his chest. Sebastian had to count to ten in his head before grabbing Jim's wrist and pulling his hand away.

“You're drunk enough for this to be a very bad idea,” he said, smacking Jim's other hand away as he reached out toward him again.

Jim frowned at him, and leaned forward again, pushing his lips against Sebastian's neck, and reaching his hand down to grope his crotch.  
“Come on, Sebastian. I want you so badly. Fuck me, please.”

Sebastian closed his eyes and reveled in the sensations Jim was giving him, but when Jim's fingers slipped to the fly of his jeans, he pulled away again, and stood up. He tried to control his breathing as he stared down at Jim, who glared back up at him.

“This is getting rather tedious, Sebastian,” he said.

“Yeah, you're telling me. I don't know how many times I have to say, 'Jim, I'm not going to fuck you if you're drunk,' before it sinks into your head. And you're supposed to be a genius.”

Sebastian watched for a reaction, and he could tell Jim was trying to decide if he should be angry or not. Finally his face relaxed, and he put on a hurt expression that Sebastian could tell was just for show.

“Can we spend some time together, then? I'd hate to be at home alone on Christmas,” he asked, giving Sebastian the puppy eyes.  
He thought about it for a moment, and though he knew it was probably some kind of ploy, he relented, and allowed Jim to pick out a movie from his DVD collection.

They eventually settled on _Reservoir Dogs_ , and as Sebastian had expected, Jim spent half the movie picking apart the plans the characters came up with for the heist, and the other half trying to grope Sebastian through his clothes. Sebastian managed to fend him off most of the time, and by the end of the movie Jim had finally settled down, sleepily resting his head upon Sebastian's shoulder. He had mostly sobered up by that point, and his desire to ravish his employee seemed to die down with his drunkenness. 

Jim was often more pliant when he was sleepy, and so Sebastian felt like it might be safe enough to ask what was on his mind, even though now that he was mostly sober, Jim might not take too kindly to being asked personal questions.

“Why do you only want me when you're drunk, boss?” he asked, hoping using the proper title might keep Jim from getting mad if Sebastian was overstepping his boundaries.

“Who says I do?” Jim mumbled, burying his face against Sebastian's shoulder.

“Ok. Um. Why do you only show me that you want me when you're drunk?”

“Hmmm. When I'm drunk I have less control over my impulses. Desire is a weakness, Sebastian, and I can't afford to have weaknesses.”

“Oh. Then you don't actually care about me? You're only interested in sex,” Sebastian said, not caring if he sounded like a teenaged girl. He wanted to know, either way.

Jim sighed and stood up, his weariness making him wobble slightly.

“We are not having this conversation,” he said, sounding sharp, but not looking at Sebastian.

He hesitated, staring at the door to the flat, before turning sharply and walking toward Sebastian's bedroom.

“You can sleep on the sofa,” Jim said, walking away quickly.

“This is my flat, you twat!” Sebastian shouted back, but the sound of his door slamming shut was the only response he got.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm honestly not sure if I should continue this, or just leave poor Sebastian all sexually frustrated. Feedback would be appreciated, but I have about half a dozen unfinished fics going at this point, and it's getting a bit silly.


End file.
